Peter's Lullaby
by averagetoaster
Summary: Major Infinity War spoilers! After gathering all 6 Infinity Stones, Thanos takes a slightly different approach in slaughtering half of the universe. Instead of having everyone slaughtered or turning them to dust, everyone is put to sleep in the most literal sense. Half of the universe is dying. Peter doesn't want to go.


Something is wrong.

Something is horribly, terribly, irreversibly wrong and Peter Parker can feel it welling up in his gut, as if a horde of angry pigeons had been released inside his ribcage and were furiously trying to escape.

"Something is happening." A voice rings out from behind Peter. He feels a wave of goosebumps cover his body. He rapidly glances around the battlefield. The alien girl with the weird antennae,what was her name again? Whatever it is, she now looks to be sprawled out on the ground, unmoving, her eyes glassy and her body still to the point where _she doesn't look to be breathing._

Everyone seems frozen for a moment. Tension hangs thick in the air, and everyone is unable to speak or move or think about anything other than the fact that if that girl dropped dead out of nowhere, that means Thanos must have taken the last Infinity Stone. And he must have closed his fist or snapped his fingers or thrown some sort of elaborate gang sign or done _whatever_ needed to be done to bring about the death of half of the universe. There's nothing any of them can do to stop this.

And any or all of them could be next.

This isn't going to end well. That much is obvious. Peter shoots a pleading look at Tony, trying to find some sort of guidance, but the adult looks just as confused as him. Peter shifts his gaze back to the girl. No, she still isn't moving. Or breathing, from the looks of it. Before anyone can so much as take a step towards the alien girl, the muscular, Kratos-looking person speaks up.

"Quill?"

And before anyone else can so much as take a step towards him, the man falls to the ground, as still and silent as the girl beside him. With a start, Quill takes a step away from the bodies. And before Peter can comprehend even a fraction of what's going on, Quill and Dr. Strange have already fallen to the ground, limp to the point where they seem like ragdolls.

The pigeons now feel as if they're pecking at his insides mercilessly. Something about all this just feels like one huge _error,_ as if it shouldn't exist at all, like this whole situation is one giant blue screen in his life that needs to be restarted as soon as possible or the entire computer will break beyond repair. But with nearly everyone around him lying dead on the ground, there isn't much he can do. The only person left on this planet that he knows is Mr. Stark. Mr. Stark, who had always been there to save him, he would know what to do, right?

"Mr. Stark? I don't feel so good."

Tony looks at him with an expression that's a mix between disbelief and complete desolation. "You're all right."

A wave of fatigue washes over Peter. He had only been put under anaesthesia once in his life- he had minor surgery on his knee after he had fallen on the playground as a child- but the heaviness in his body and the rapid haziness that sets over his brain felt eerily similar to the effects of the gas they had him inhale before his surgery. In simpler terms, Peter has lost pretty much any control he has over his limbs, and he can hardly remember where he is or what's going on. The teen blinks rapidly, trying to will himself awake, but he only feels his eyelids grow heavier and heavier with every passing second. Taking a deep breath, he raises a hand to slap himself awake, but to his chagrin the impact is nothing more than a light pat on his cheek. In another second, his arm falls limply to his side. He doesn't have the energy to raise it again.

With zombie-like precision, he stumbles towards the one person who could possibly give him any confort.

Mr. Stark, who had taken him on as a mentee when everyone else saw him as a dumb kid. This was the same Stark who had trusted him with the improved Spider-Man suit- which Tony had designed himself- despite all Peter's failures. Mr. Stark was the one who had built him into the person he is today, or rather, allowed Peter the opportunity to be the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man he had always wanted to be ever since he had been bitten. And sure, maybe they have had disagreements in the past, and maybe Mr. Stark had been harsh at times, but being a part of the Avengers has been the most exhilarating experience of Peter's life. He wouldn't trade it for the world.

And because of all this, Peter almost considered Tony a father. Maybe he would, if they had known each other for just a bit longer. Maybe Tony saw him as a son as well, in some ways. It was a bit difficult to tell, but Peter was certain that Tony had always cared about him, despite his brooding persona. Mr. Stark had never been one to show much affection, but…

"I don't- I don't know what's happening. I'm just- I-" He tries to say more, something, anything, but his mouth isn't cooperating. He lurches forwards into Tony's arms, realizing with a shock that he no longer has the ability to move his legs. He desperately tries to wrap his arms around his idol, finding he hardly has the strength to do so, praying for this to all be over so he can just go home.

"Come on, kid. Don't leave-" Stark begins, but his voice trails off before he can finish. Hesitating for only a moment, he wraps his arms around Peter.

There has to be some sort of mistake. Peter has to be fine, right? He can't actually, well, _die-_ can he? Not when he has so much left to do. He hasn't even finished high school, or had a girlfriend, and he hasn't recently told Aunt May how much he loves her, or-

"I don't wanna go. I don't wanna go." His words are slurred now, almost indecipherable with his exhaustion. He rests his face on Mr. Stark's tense shoulder, feeling tired to the point where he can't even choke out a cry for help. Instead, he tries to focus on his breathing. In, out. This isn't helping.

Tony opens his mouth as if to say something, but he's simply too stunned to speak.

"Mr. Stark, please. I can't-" Peter takes another deep breath. This only draws him closer to slumber. "I don't want to go." He begins to feel a warmth creep down his body, starting at the top of his head and racing towards his feet. Like sitting in a sunbeam on a hot summer day, Peter finds it difficult to focus his thoughts on anything but the increasing desire to sleep.

Peter tries to stammer out a sentence. Anything to keep him awake. "I just- I-"

Tony gently places a hand on the back of Peter's head in a comforting gesture. Peter wishes he would say something- _anything,_ just so he doesn't have to spend his last moments in complete silence like this.

And yet, despite everything he had accomplished, the teen still feels as if he could have done so much more to save them. He could have stopped the wizard-alien from kidnapping Dr. Strange, or he could have gotten the gauntlet off of Thanos just a bit faster, or he could have pushed himself to fight Thanos with _just a bit_ more effort and it could have prevented all this.

But they couldn't stop him, after all. Thanos wins. The Universe is dead.

Mustering up the last of his strength, Peter is barely able to whisper, "I'm sorry." After taking one last look at Tony's distraught face, Peter finally succumbs to the inky darkness encapsulating him. One last breath escapes his lips, and everything fades away.

And for a moment, all is silent.


End file.
